There are “big” words here.

What is wrong with us? Are we, and our children, so desperate to ally ourselves with celebrities that we assign our allegiance to anyone who strikes a chord with us? Witness the current fascination with Paris Hilton. If she were in any of our “normal” families, those without great wealth, we wouldn’t be happy with her behavior. But, our fascination with the living pales miserably when compared with our fascination with some former living folk.

I remember when Elvis died. For more than 10 years, we were all witness to a parade of folk who swore they had seen the dead man. He was seen worldwide. He was seen in small towns. He was seen in laundromats. It is fascinating that his “living” quarters were never identified. He seems to have been living on a cloud…never to surface again. Nope…he really was dead…no matter what we wanted…

I am reminded that Elvis’ fan club wasn’t the only one to be caught up in rumors, fantasies, and wishes that never came true. Tupac fell to an assassin’s bullet in 1996. Today, 10 years after the fact, we still have people claiming he faked is death and will arise. Some of these fans argue with great passion, as if their passion will bring him back. Unfortunately, it won’t, the object of their affection is well outside their reach. But, they still believe. As though belief will change things. Like their Elvis fan counterparts they are often the least educated, poorest read, and most easily led blindly along. They tend to be blown with the wind from one trend to another.

How disheartening must it be to find that there are “secrets” around every corner that you cannot get in on. They always seem to be hiding things from you. There are so many little secrets for those that skip over the “big” words in the newspaper. Those “big” words aren’t important, your friends can tell you all you need to know…of course. If not they, then the TV will tell us, or the never-lying internet, or maybe our illiterate uncle or aunt. But not, God forbid, a……book….eeeeegggadd that horrible word. Why would we read a real book, or even expand our vocabulary to include those “big” words….

I cannot fathom how hard for these people must be, but I have taught some of their children. They are full of suspicion, superstition, hearsay, and blind guess work. They put faith more in the fantasy’s of their illiterate friends than in the books that are so mysterious. For those of us who are tasked with the enlightenment of the next generation, it is very difficult to fight our way through all of this. when your friends are the ultimate authority…it doesn’t leave much room for teachers and such.

While I do not believe that the behavior of the parents is a direct cause of a child’s behavior…it can help to lead them along a certain path. I just wonder how many books their parents read. I wonder if they realize that most people, like the coroners involved in the cases mentioned above, are, almost without exception, people of honor who take their oaths of office as a sacred trust. And, as scientists, the pursuit of the truth is a cause that transcends all other concerns, and that would include and bribes that might have been bandied about. But, of course, that would mean trusting people you don’t know, who may not be part of your immediate society, and/or family. Thus, they cannot be trusted.

If the trust of these types of people cannot be given, then who can be trusted to tell the truth??? Magazines that are in the business of titillating the public??? Websites that make their living by keeping rumors going?? By listening to those who know as little or even less than the children I teach. I agonize daily of the ignorance of those around me. How hard must it be to go through life feeling that everyone knows “it” but you??? “They” are keeping it from you. “They” are the reason you can’t accomplish. “They” are the ones that don’t try to understand you. It is “their” fault that you are an outsider!!!

Could it be that maybe our lack of understanding is our own fault??? And, maybe that of those that care about us?? A good teacher can teach a student to read using a phone book….but, only a student that sees worth in the knowledge, and is willing to work hard to acquire it. Where does that work ethic come from?? When does it arrive?? Can it be instilled at will?? Who is in charge of doing so??

And…for those that don’t understand…we, who care about your understanding, will do our best to give you all the effort we can muster. But, you will have to try to. You may have to do things that aren’t fun. You may have to work hard. And, at least from here, the assault on ignorance will continue…and we’ll work on those “big” words.

Of motorcycles, rain, GM, and Rain-X???

While I have been feeling pretty good about my renewed motorcycling adventures, today the shiny began to be rubbed completely off the apple (the fruit not the computer). This morning the weather had changed, as our Midwest friends are well aware, and, at least here in the southeast, rain was in the offing. No big deal, the gear I have is either waterproof or water resistant. I was excited to try out my new stuff….

As I was about a block away from home I noticed that the rain was sticking nicely to my visor. Not running off you might note, simply beading up and staying put. Turning my head slightly, to allow the wind a different attack angle, made no difference, save the expectation that my peripheral vision would be sufficient. It wasn’t. I wound up running with my visor slightly ajar.

The effect of headlights on all those little beads is kinda like trying to read a newspaper looking through glasses made of a zillion cut diamonds. So, I plodded along at a mind numbing, traffic snarling, nerve jangling, 30-35 mph. This is just unacceptable.

All this and it isn’t like I didn’t expect this. I tried Rain-X wipes on my visor. I had used them years before. Apparently they didn’t work….at all. Now, I have to change my underwear….or at least add lots of Cologne when I get to work. Yes, there are other preparations, but I didn’t have those handy. Still don’t. But, I will be looking for them.

My other gear was nearly flawless. My Tourmaster equipment seems to have worked as advertised. I really appreciate that. HEY RAIN-X…you hear that!!!! I just keep wondering if they have changed their formula over the years I was absent from the motorcycling scene. If so, this isn’t the first product that I’ve taken a liking to that went weird. It wasn’t that long ago that the idiotic Pepsico changed the formula for Mt. Dew. Yeah, lets add more caffeine, more sugar, less carbonation, but hey its still the same stuff……aaaaaarrrrrgggghh. Why do they do that???? Why change what seems to be working already???? I guess I am not smart enough to understand.

I recognize the structure of packaging, promoting, and advertising a product. I understand that many industries that are gravely concerned about how much can be sold today and in the future with scant attention paid to product continuity with the past. Each company seeks to “improve” their products…never mind the customer that has grown accustomed to the current formula, construction, or practice. I am, therefore, thankful that a large corporation like Kawasaki has kept the Ninja 250 much as it has always been. It works very well. It is inexpensive. According to what I have read, it is durable. It is a great value for the money.

People deserve the best efforts of the company that they do business with. When payment is made, it is made for the best effort. Imagine how irritated a corporation would be if every credit card purchase made was canceled just as the goods were received. It wouldn’t take long and the business would be requiring cash payments. Maybe we should require true value….up front. I quit using Thinkpads when I noted how poorly Lenovo was beginning to make them, once the bought out IBM. I was no longer an IBM fan when they refused to move their computer business to Linux, even though they contribute greatly to the kernel. Who cares about the consumer? They’ll buy whatever we make…yeah, tell that to GM.

I have read a few reviews castigating Kawasaki for not changing the Ninja 250 very much in 20+ years of construction….maybe they were watching GM. I know that I have been watching GM….from the inside of all of my non-GM vehicles.

Wow, am I off topic….anyway, I tenderly made my way to work. I wasn’t happy, but I made it. Like flying, where any landing you walk away from is a good landing, any time you arrive with body (and bike) intact, it is a very good arrival. At least that is the way it seems to me….here….for now.

So, now encased in body armor, I sally forth from here……

Well, over the past few days I managed to cross a threshold….the 500 mile break-in period for my Ninja 250. Now, I can open it up. Today was the first day that I began to explore the 7K+ range of the bike. For such a small engine to make such power it has to rev very high. The Kawasaki has a red-line of 11-12K or so. I have yet, and probably won’t, see the high side of 10K, but when I hit 9K this morning on a lonely stretch of familiar rode….whew….. The cams came on and the little Ninjette began to growl. It was amazing. It has been so long since I have ridden that I had forgotten that feeling. OMG, I felt like I was flying. I have no plans for a Hayabusa in the future and for me anything in excess of 60mph is probably a bit fast, I am old enough to be a grandpa, so the 250 will do just fine.

Now that I have completed my gear acquisition; a Nitro mesh jacket with body armor, Fieldshear mesh pants with body armor, and Tourmaster jean pants with body armor to match my Tourmaster saber jacket…..wait…..be patient….oh yeah, with body armor, I am ready to be a bit more adventurous….errr…not much. I have renewed my low speed efforts and am beginning to see results. If you want to check your skills try riding a figure 8 inside of a quadrant of 4 parking spaces. It will test your patience. I am beginning to be able to do so without flinching too much. I can weave in and out on the ends of the spaces without too much trouble, but that figure 8 thing is tough.

I have been reading “More Proficient Motorcycling” and am trying to apply some of the lessons…without injury to myself or the bike. It is difficult at times to teach this old dog new tricks but I am learning. It is getting kinda old having the little kids at the park laughing at me though….but, as a teacher I am accustomed to embarrassment.

So, now encased in body armor, I sally forth to slay the demons of traffic, asphalt, and all that nature can bring to bear…provided I don’t get scared and take the truck from here.

We be crunching simple code here……YEEEEEHHHAAAAA!!!!

For all of those non-geeks out there…ya might wanna stop reading here…have a nice day. For all you normal people….away we go!!

In addition to Linux on my desktops I have a MacBook Black,running OSX, obviously, that I use for most of my work and portable play. I must say that OSX is truly a work of art. I have loaded numerous open source/freeware onto it without any difficulty, once I learned how to get X11 loaded. Things are running very smoothly. It is funny how smooth….even the X11 programs seem to run natively w/o waiting for X to load, then the program, then the file you wanted, etc. It just works.

In my efforts to run a smooth ship, I have worked hard to find an office suite that did what I wanted and leave me appendages for riding my motorcycle. I have tried Apple works….aaaaaarrrrrrgggghhhh (dinosaur). I tried pages….funky interface that I just don’t seem to be getting accustomed to. (Meanwhile Keynote is an extremely user-friendly and productive program, Powerpoint would do well to learn some lessons here.) I started to try OpenOffice, like I run on my Linux boxes, but decided to use NeoOffice, an OSX port of OOO. It runs quite smoothly, although it opens a bit slowly.

But, therein lies the snag. I depend on Neo to keep track of my attendance and grades at school, which consist of 4 different spreadsheets. I had set Neo to open at login. Then, I manually opened each spreadsheet individually. This seems to take forever, especially when a student is waiting semi-patiently to learn a current grade. I decided to try to automate the process.

I tried Apple’s automator….but, for me at least, it is a bit more complicated that I expected. I decided to try my hand at Applescript. After all, it couldn’t be that hard….oh yeah right!!!! I spent a full hour being told, over and over and over again, can’t find file XXX, can’t open file XXX, etc. I have a book I consulted “Mac OSX, the Missing Manual”, which sort of helped, but not exactly. I did manage to open Neo via my script…but, duh I could do that via a single click ANYWAY!!!!! Then, I consulted the discussion groups on Apple’s website, which are a great resource BTW, and between the two I managed to put together a small script. It opens NeoOffice and all 4 spreadsheets without further adieu. I even compiled my little program and placed it on the dock…and, IT WORKS!!!!

Boy, it is so much faster than the old manual way. Although compilation wasn’t part of it, this reminds me a great deal of writing autoexec.bat files back in the days BEFORE WINDOWS BEGAN TO SUCK BIG TIME. But, it was a good bit easier, and it didn’t screw up the system when it was wrong. This is my first Applescript…but it won’t be the last.

I had been wondering if I was going to be able to be a bit more geeky with OSX, and now I have the answer. OH YEAH, BABY, OH YEAH!!! We be crunching simple code here……YEEEEEHHHAAAAA!!!!

There are quite a few goats….around here.

Today, as often happens my students and I got in a discussion that covered a variety of subjects, from superheros to drug use. And, during these discussions it amazes me to find that they cannot readily accept someone like me. They find my behavior quite bizzare. The cannot imagine someone who has lived the life that I have led.

When discussing smoking they often find it paradoxical that while I had chain-smoking parents I have never done so. I never even tried it. I was afraid, as I tell them, that I would like it and become addicted too. I never wanted to smell like them. I never wanted a burning pacifier to rule my life. I remember them not being able to go certain places because smoking wasn’t allowed. They, my parents, thought that I was some kind of “fresh air nut”. Well, a fresh air nut I am. I like breathing. I do not like suffering, as so many have with smoking. I cannot imagine having the difficulties that so many do, due to their desire for a pacifier. I never did like one, even as a child.

Of course, my students don’t see it as a pacifier. No, it is a measure of adulthood. So, I ask which shows our adulthood more, giving into desires that we know will hurt us or standing firm against the pressures that society can bring?? They, of course, don’t like it put that way. They cannot fathom someone who just didn’t see the need. They cannot fathom someone who chooses not to and follows through. What does that say about our society? What does that say about my generation?

My generation often marvels at the youth of today and their indulgence in wanton behavior. Where do we think they learned that self-restraint was not an option? Where do we think they learn that going along, because everyone does is OK? Well, sadly, they learned it from us. How many people do we know that got into trouble because they simply went along??? How many people do we know who have been in trouble and can’t figure out how they got there? Far too many.

My students cannot fathom someone thinking prior to acting. They cannot fathom someone who sees others having fun and choosing not to join in because the “fun” includes consequences. They are under the same impression we were under, hey you are only young once….so have fun now….’cause it ends soon. How sad must their parents’ lives be?

I ask the students, if the fun ends at adulthood, why do so many continue to exist? Why not end it all when you graduate high school? They respond that most of the adults they know are angry, frustrated, sad, and depressed. These people don’t have fun. They have drudgery. My response to them includes the tale of a number of gentlemen much older than myself who, while in their 70s, still look forward to tomorrow with great anticipation. These old guys expect to continue to challenge themselves and have fun…..regardless of age.

The best days of our lives should always be before us…..regardless of our age. We should not give up, give in, or relent in our pursuit to challenge ourselves. Without challenging ourselves we begin to wither and die. It doesn’t have to be so. We can lead our children into an adulthood not crippled at the start by smoking, drinking, and drugs. Not because we are so righteous, but because we want to be strong and proud for a long lifetime…not just while we are young.

Further, how pathetic are we to show our children how weak we really are so easily. Sure, they will know we are weak…in so many ways…but, do we really need a pacifier to reinforce the notion. Yes, I know quiting is hard….my father quit….the day he died….he couldn’t manage it before hand. How do we expect our children to be of a strong will and mind if a tiny tobacco plant rules over us…or a bottle….or a pill….or a…well, you get the picture. We fail so often, in so many ways…business, academics, sports, relationships, etc. must we include addiction as part of that. While I realize that addiction can be treated as a disease…it is a disease that we do not have to suffer. If we do not indulge, we never become addicted. Is it easy to go against the flow…no? Is it easy to face reality sober….no. But, don’t our children deserve our sobriety?

I am accused, quite often as you might guess, of being antisocial, but what most people mean is that I am not like everyone else….I don’t just go along. True, I am not a sheep. I don’t follow just because….of course, this particular trait didn’t always serve me well in the military. Being a goat isn’t easy. But, it seems to me the sheepiness of others is much harder….. At least around here, there do be goats about.

At least here, the NFL is DEAD.

If this day occurred 30 years ago, I’d have been staring at a TV screen all day. But, oh so many years later, my how times have changed. At least here, football died a quickly, nearly forgotten death, 26 years ago…..

Just after my wife and I married we moved to North Dakota. I, being a young American male, was so excited at the prospect of being so close to the home of my favorite team…the Minnesota Vikings. I loved the Vikings so much that I had even done reports on Minnesota in Elementary School. This was back in the days when the only teams shown on TV were from the region in which you lived. So, if they weren’t in the playoffs, on Monday Night Football, or playing the Falcons, this Georgia boy could only follow them in the paper. And, I did.

Well, after we married we moved to Minot, ND. I was so excited. The playing season had ended for that year, but, as always, the next season was soon to come around. When the first game was to be televised I was sitting in my favorite chair. My little 13″ B&W TV inches away. My chips and drink right at hand. The pregame show was relished. I was working myself into a fevered pitch. My wife didn’t even care that I was watching football. I was so happy. Things couldn’t be better.

It was about that time that she walked by, headed to the bedroom. Semi-clad she announced that she was taking her plump little self off to nap and told me to enjoy my game. At first, I was still happy. That is of course, until i realized that my lovely wife was off to bed……without me. And, I was going to spend the next four hours watching grown men hold each other close????? Further, they didn’t seem to care that I was watching them…..but, she would welcome me. They didn’t even notice when I turned off the TV…..

It occurred to me later that I don’t understand many married men. They would rather watch football than be with their wives????? You mean you’d rather watch grown men hold each other close, make grunting noises, and ignore you completely???? I don’t get it anymore…

Further, the teams are so happy with their fans that they move constantly, trade your favorite players, and act like you owe them a new stadium. What is wrong with us as a society? What is wrong with us as a gender??? If the teams really cared about you…i.e. return your ticket price when they lost, return the purchase price for the jersey when the payer is traded, stayed in the city that paid for them, etc; then I might understand….but, they don’t care about you. They didn’t care about me. But,…

For the last 26 years she has cared. She has been there always. And now, Sunday afternoon is for holding each other close, listening to the rain outside, and being content……isn’t that what we all want. That is what I wanted.

While football for me died, the NFL seems to be doing quite well without me. It seems there are many who’d rather spend their Sundays with people who don’t care about them, than with the one who shares his bed. Well, at least around here, the NFL is a long dead memory…..I would keep writing, but it is nap time.

Here we have a damp impatient wait.

I’ve been staring out at the rain….all day. I usually like the rain. I usually enjoy the rain. But, today I am on 4 wheels…..aaaarrrrggghhh. I realize that by the time one gets to be my age I should be very patient. But the fact is that I am on 4 wheels because some of the gear I have ordered, for my return to 2 wheels, hasn’t come in yet. I hate WAITING FOR STUFF that I have purchased. When I want things, like a little brat, I want THEM NOW. In this day and time we should be able to get things in a reasonable period of time. But, of course, I had to order it just before the holidays. Then, of course, the company put it on back order. AAAAArrrrrggggghhh, I am trying to be patient. The article of clothing I ordered was a pair of motorcycling pants that fit over other clothing that include body armor a strategic points.

So, what does this have to do with the rain…..well, with my rustiness, so many years out of the saddle, I am a bit afraid to ride in a thunderstorm without as much protection as possible. I am paranoid. And, I realize that it is paranoia that keeps the cyclist alive.

Unfortunately, not many of the younger cyclists that I see are aware of this fact. They don’t seem to realize that they cycle in a time when the cycling industry produces exciting apparel that even includes body armor. Body armor. Wow. Back 20, or so, years ago the clothing available either made you look like a member of the “hell’s angels” or like some “boy racer” from Europe. the old clothing made you sweat just looking at it. Most of us made do with clothing we could afford. My how times have changed.

Today, proper protection is very affordable, comfortable, and amazingly durable. Had these pieces been available when I was younger, maybe I’d have never quit.

All that said, i can’t understand why more of the younger generation don’t use this stuff. I am passed quite often by some youngster clad only in jeans and a T-shirt. I guess they just don’t like skin. I even saw a video of a young girl wearing only a helmet, sweatshirt, and jeans get blown of the back of a sport bike. How could the young man on the front of the bike allow this to happen? Didn’t he appreciate the way her skin was arranged before they started the ride? What is wrong with these people? I can’t imagine sitting in the hospital trying to calm my wife as she receives skin grafts because, “we were only going around the block”. It is true irresponsibility that allows us to act like this. Too often our desire to be “cool” and tough keep us from making responsible decisions. Wonder what he had to say to her parents? Wonder how he kept from killing himself, as she suffered surgery after surgery to repair the damage he caused? How could he life with himself as she cries in agony night after night?

For all of those reasons, I wait impatiently for equipment that will hopefully keep my skin where it is. And, in due time, I will order the same equipment for my wife. So, I choose not to ride, when I feel unsafe, and I wait impatiently right HERE.

Who, around here, is responsible for this mess???

As a teacher I am constantly asked how I think the children today are? I am bombarded with condolences for my job, due to the perceived difficulties that must be happening with the children. I am often made aware that the children I teach must be the worst ever, according to the adults I run into. Well…..

As I stood today listening to the tale of one of the youngsters it occurred to me that the adults in this child’s life must not understand at all. While many of our parents today are doing a wonderful job and their children are well-adjusted and responsible, far too many are not. I often am the recipient of the poor behavior that began because “my mom and I had a fight this morning….sorry” when that behavior is bad enough for me to have to get administration involved. I cannot imagine sending my child off into the day knowing that the last thing I said to her would stir her anger all day. Sure, we’ve had our days, nights, and weekends, where we didn’t agree or get along too well. But, she always knew that she was still my “one and only”.

The lack of respect displayed between the children and their parents is amazing. They call their children horrible names and then can’t understand why the child stays mad. They expect the child to overlook what they said, or did, out of anger yet they keep telling the child not “to speak to me in that tone.” Shouldn’t we as adults model the behavior we want to see in the child? Shouldn’t we be the ones to calm down first, after all we have seen many moments of frustration and know that they will pass?

I cannot imagine responding to my child as other parents do. I saw a woman screaming at the top of her lungs at a child in a store. She was demanding that he stop whining and put down the toy he had asked for. I was standing immobilized by the display. As the tantrum of the child, and that of its mother, grew in intensity, I was sure I knew where he learned the behavior. Do we ever stop to think about the way our children see us?

I remember thinking that some of the questions children are asked make little sense, yet we expect them explain themselves fully. I actually heard a father ask his son if he wanted him (the father) to hit him (the son). I thought “why would he want that?” What a stupid question!!! And this father will be amazed when the child hits his little brother…wondering where in the world he learned that.

Do we understand how bad the words that we say hurt the people we love? I have been in the presence of so many crying children, I know that few of the parents I see realize it. Most of them say what ever comes to mind….or at least to mouth. They never even guess that their child may be suicidal. They never understand why the child sneaks out at night. Yeah, like why would the child want to be away from such a monster? Then, often, the monster attempts to explain that “I was just mad…sorry.” Sure, I guess the child merely erases that from its memory.

This is not written to impune all parents. I just feel so sorry for both parties. There is only one greater relationship on Earth than parent to child….that being the one between the parents….and yet people tear both relationships apart over and over. What do they get for all of their trouble? Better wives, husbands, and children….it seems they only get greater anger and frustration from all corners. Do we really want our children to approach us in fear? I have seen large teenage boys tremble at the approach of their mother….terrified of her force of personality and authority. I have actually heard fathers state that they wanted their sons to “respect” them…..that isn’t respect…..thats fear. They are not the same. We wonder why our children have become so violent. Yet they aren’t the ones shooting at others who cut them off on the highway. What do we desire of them? What could possibly be more important than securing the love of our children? Oh yeah, we have to be right!! Is being right worth the tension in our families? Is being right and forcing a child to do our bidding, worth the wrath that child simmers until the explosion occurs?

At some point both parties must remember that it is the family that does the burying. It is the family that is to supply the scaffolding that is the main support for the child’s future. Without that support we all run a great risk of collapse. I have actually seen a parent viscously scolding a child, becoming a screaming spectacle, over insignificant things (like candy at the store, uncleaned rooms, unmade beds, etc). What will these parents do if the child wrecks the car later in life? I’m sure the child wonders the same thing.

Too often in parent teacher meetings we, teachers, exchange quick knowing glances as the parent explains why things have gone wrong. Too often the behaviors that we see in the kids are there, older, grayer, and usually angrier.

After all of these years teaching, I’m not sure that children have changed all that much, but I am sure parenting seems to have changed. The levels of frustrations in families of all socioeconomic levels seems to be rising. How many tears must we all shed? How many angry words can pass between us? How much pain can the hearts of all stand? Must we find out??? Must we be sure to be the major heartache in our child’s life? While it is never a one-sided affair, it cannot be overlooked that it is the parent who holds the position of authority and thus, the position of the greatest responsibility.

There be stiff zombies about…..here.

So, here I was riding off to work…upset about leaving, still knowing that the mission must be undertaken. I arrive without much fanfare. No real problems on the way. Then,….the stiffness began.

It started slowly at first, a tug on the ole hamstring. Then, a tightening of the thighs. Slowly, the back began to spasm a bit. Ah yes, the ole bad neck had to ensure I never forget old injuries….the glories of aging.

Why, you may ask, did this occur. There are two reasons. The first, my own actions. Since returning to motorcycling after more than a decade away, I decided to do some research (I am a science major after all) and learn more about the activity. Well, I am reading a book by a man named Hough (More Practical Motorcycling), that explains some low-speed skills I had never attempted before. I had already been trying a lot of low-speed maneuvers to sharpen my skills, but these were a bit different. (You see, I know that like in aviation, some one who can control the bike at very low speeds has a much easier time of it at high speeds.) These particular skills required me to stand on the pegs altering the pressure left or right to achieve certain motorcycle behaviors. I haven’t tried that for……I can’t remember…the pain in my sore legs is too great. It is far more athletic than I anticipated. I am weak. I am nervous. I am feeling very old. Well, I did the maneuvers without too much difficulty, but I have suffered all day. My New Year’s resolution to exercise a bit more will have to wait until I recover from…er….exercising?????? How does that work? I do not understand…heck I can hardly stand at all….eeegggaaaadddd…..I am such a weakling.

The second reason for my distress lies with my lovely wife. You should be aware of the fact that a few years ago she had surgery to remove some questionable growths on her thyroid. She came through the surgery wonderfully. I was very relieved. But…….it left her with a very odd side effect. She now often sounds like a muppet when she sleeps. Normally, I don’t care my snoring drowns her out. Or, my tinnitus keeps me from hearing anything anyway (at least on my bad days). But, last night she added a new sound….honking goose. OMG….she was not rhythmic. It kinda came and went. I couldn’t stay asleep….my ringing, her honking, the dog, the cars in the road,…but, mostly the honking. I realize this is not her fault…but, it isn’t mine either….what was the name of that doctor again?????

So my sleeplessness added to my recovery time. Age added to my recovery time. My usual athletic prowess added to my recovery time. Then, I began to try to make my self sleep….ever try that? You keep flinging yourself down on the pillow. Slam your eyes shut. Block out what you can. Force sleep to come. Then, you begin to quiz yourself to determine if you are asleep……which of course you aren’t…or you wouldn’t be asking stupid questions like: AM I ASLEEP YET……WELL, NO STUPID YOU ARE NOT!!!!

So, for now I shall drag my tired, sore, pathetic old ben-gay smelling self off to bed…put a pillow over my wife’s head, stuff plugs in my ears, dart the dog, seal the window, and GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE.

I don’t want to go…….

Well, the holidays have come and gone. Its back to work….oh, joy…..oh, joy. There is a reason they call it work….if it were fun we’d call it something else. While I will, gladly, admit that my teaching  job pales miserably in frustration, physical pain, and stress when compared to my old Military position, it can still find ways to get under my skin. But, that is beside the point today.

It is amazing to me that so many people are so happy to get back to work. Whether its after a long vacation, holiday break, or even a weekend, these people come hipity(?) hop gleefully to work….what is wrong with them???? I remember well when I was on active duty in North Dakota that we’d occasionally get snowbound and have to spend 2-3 days at home without electricity and/or any way to leave. My contemporaries would get back to work and they’d be all frustrated… They had spent 3 days stuck in the house with “that woman”, and they were fit to be tied. I was upset too. I had to leave “that woman” and return to the office with those clowns. I can’t imagine a situation where work is the place I go for happiness while home was full of frustration. If I didn’t want to get snowbound with “that woman” I wouldn’t have married her. Now, as we approach our 27th wedding anniversary I still find the same to be true.

I believe it was New Year’s day I had awakened from our nap and was watching my wife sleep…she is so peaceful, especially when she sleeps, it is mesmerizing. I lose track of time when I watch her. While watching her it occurred to me that I had been watching her for nearly 27 years, it seems like such a short time. I cannot believe it is slipping away so quickly. I cannot imagine life without her.

All that said, I feel sorry for others who don’t feel that way about their spouse. It seems that my wife and I are in the minority…most relationships explode rather quickly for one reason or other. I have watched my friends and their trials and tribulations, I have watched the celebrities on the news, I have watched those with more money, I have watched those who look so much better than we do, and I find myself shaking my head at their folly. How much pain must they feel? Yet, they jump from relationship to relationship not changing the way they act. I’ve heard that the true definition of stupid is doing the same thing the same way over and over expecting different results.

It occurs to me that part of the reason that my wife and I have survived, as a couple, when others didn’t is the fact that, I truly appreciate what she brings to my life. She is not my property, but my partner in a world working hard to tear us apart. She is my best friend. I do understand that if most guys married their best friend it would sadly be Tom, Mark, John, etc. What does that say about the importance we place on those who have our children?

Well, I for one, have reached the end, once again, to a wonderfully quiet holiday season and must leave my wife to go to work tomorrow, the next day, the day after that, etc. and “they” will expect me to be happy…..aaaaarrrgggh. She will be asleep when I leave. I’ll step into the cold grey dawn as she snuggles…..aaaaaarrrrggggghhhh. Tomorrow the commuters around me will race and jockey for position flinging themselves toward work at a break-neck speed. I’ll let them pass….. I’ll ease my way to work, savoring the last few wisps of my wife’s presence, as the grumpiness of our separation envelopes me as I amble away, but only for a while, from here.